It's Like You Never Had Wings
by Koutei
Summary: [I watched a change in you, it's like you never had wings] My brother is in his rebellious stage, and I... well, I've always had an adolescent mind. It's not a change, after all.


**Title: **It's Like You Never Have Wings  
**Rating:** T  
**Author's note:** I'm Italian. Yes, from that place that look like a boot and were the food is soo fuckin' good. I know English only 'cause I listen a lot of English songs. Well, I listen ONLY English songs… but that's another story. And, well, I read comics. I LOVE Jhonen Vasquez, that guy is a genius! (No, here no one know who is he, and no one translate JTHM, Squee and I feel Sick in Italian. And yes, I watch Invader Zim in English… I'm crazy.)  
Yeah, there's the school, but I don't watch the lessons. I write or draw something. So, please, forgive my English. I didn't wanted to do something so horrible!! There is no place where I can submit this, so I write that in english and… and… please, forgive me!  
Anyhow, this chapter is short and with no action. Is only for see the character. And 'cause you can tell me if I have to stop or I can continue. Tell me. TELL ME. Or I kill English. And that's NO GOOD.

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**-"Riley, I can't believe that I still have to tell you this. Eat. The. Vegetables." **I'm Huey Freeman. I'm sixteen. Once, when I was six, my parents turned on the TV. There was the News, but they can't watch them because my brother cried something that I don't want remembers. So they attempt to cheer him up.  
I never can stand scream and cry and… whatever. But above all, I hate that my brother screamed and cried. Seriously, his voice was irritant.  
So I watched the News. And I saw that there was something out my life. Then it's history: I found many movements to release black men from stereotypes of this new society and other things.  
My parents were proud of me. I was smart and I watched out for my people. They always supported me, in the limits of them roles, obviously.  
But when I was ten they die, and I was place in granddad's custody who want only live in peace. Possibly alone. Preferably, with a young white woman. So he forces me and my brother to came here a Woodcrest, where we are surrounded by white and rich men. I can't think at something worse.  
**-"I eat them." **  
My brother, Riley Freeman. Dad hoped that is name came from Riley Pitts, first Afro-American to be awarded the medal of Honour. Well, that wasn't. Mom gives him the name of Riley Breckenridge, a drummer of one of his favourite band. Pretty creepy, uh? Even if we were lucky, she can call him 'Trent', like the singer of NIN.  
Before he was three he screamed and cried for nothing. Really: NOTHING. He simply cried and screamed like hell. When he was four he followed me, cried and screamed. The nerve. When he was five he only got a new style. He had been a rapper. A damn' wannabe gangsta. When he was six he stopped follow me and didn't screamed and cried for nothing. Only for have something. You know… biscuits, reason, and homework. Then he finishes with those tricks, didn't follow me anymore and begun to knock out children at school.  
My dad didn't stand the fact he has the typical stereotypic nigga rapper how son. I didn't stand that I have a brother, and the fact that was also a wannabe gangsta, typical stereotypic of a nigga-rapper, doesn't helped.  
Mom loved Riley. She hugged him for nothing, screaming 'my baby!!'. Well, not that she didn't punished him. I remember that one evening my brother didn't feels the cheeks for the slaps. But she adored him. She loved hugged, cuddled and whatever the baby, even if he begun to complain.  
And dad didn't hate him. He can't hated him… he was Riley. It's what he answered me when I asked that. He protected him even like I didn't do. And he said that Riley was funny. But dad didn't approve him.  
I didn't approve him, neither stand. I tented only to live peacefully and happy ignoring him.  
He continues with the way to become a gangsta until he was eleven, and then he, simply, was tired of be a wannabe. He grows. I tell to him, once, that was only a phase. And like always, I've say the truth.  
He continued to dress like a rapper, loved the guns and went away with Ed and Rummy, but he didn't wanted to become a gangsta.  
In the end, when he was thirteen, he begins his happy rebellious stage.  
No grudge against adults. Well, he normally doesn't like them too much.  
No boom of 'sex think', even if he now doesn't say too much 'hoe' when talks about girls.  
He's horribly depressed. I can say that for his drawings, really dark, and for his dresses. Yeah, they're rapper, but black. Knobbed belt?! And he has too much skulls… It's a cross between a Goth and a rapper. He listens to 50 cent, but when he began to like Korn? I mean, that's a genre that my mother liked.  
I'm glad that I don't passed this phase.  
**-"I can go in my bedroom?" **  
Well, grandpa isn't interested at that. He doesn't care.  
And now, really, I want to know who the hell gave our custody at grandpa. I mean, he doesn't care for us. He wants only live a happy and ignorant life. We're not programmed in his idea.  
I can't say much about grandpa. He tells us anecdotes like 'I was with Rosa Parkins', but, well, I think these stories are true like the yarn of the Number One in Alan Ford.  
Anyhow, is the father of my father. Sometimes, he tells us that dad was a rapper revolutionary.  
He sees mom and fall in love, and no one in the family can stand him then that.  
Mom was really cold. Grandpa can tell that because dad cries for that every day. No one came to visit them during that period. He was very very very irritant.  
Really interesting. I mean, mom cold? She was sweet. Maybe a little much strange, but dad was like her.  
**-"All right. Are you ok, boy?" **  
If only I don't know that grandpa isn't interesting. It isn't so easy tell to a Hospital why the younger grandchild, in the custody of this old man, doesn't ate. Instead, it's really easy to think that, maybe, this old man doesn't give any food at the sweet little grandchild. And if behind all this there's the funny detail that this old man beat up the sweet poor little grandchild until a month ago, well, why don't call the Social Services?  
I don't think they can understand that Riley really deserved an ass-whooping.  
Sometimes I think if I'm a little too cynical.  
**-"Yea. Tired. 'Night grandpa." **  
I know that's only an answer for finish the conversation. He want to go in the bedroom, listen to music and paint something, but if he say that granddad will ask what he want paint, and is so boring answer a second question. So, simply, he says something that doesn't want a question.  
I know that because Riley does the exactly same thing to me, sometimes. Usually, before he goes away, like now.  
**-"Huey, you know how are your brother? He doesn't want to do nothing stupid, right?" **  
Adolescents. If you want know something about they, you are sure about three things.  
They are repetitive. They're incomprehensible. They're horribly, fucking stupid.  
I don't know if Riley want do something stupid, but I guess that's probably.  
**-"He doesn't say that to me, if he wants to. Anyhow, I don't think it's gonna suicide, and he doesn't are so brave to kill anyone. That's enough, for me." **  
Grandpa know that's useless ask something more. We have to save him physically, then if he got arrested it's not our fault.  
Like me. Granddad have to save me, but if comes the cops it's not his fault.  
And, well, now I have the licence. I can drive. I'm virtually unstoppable. If only doesn't my grandpa's car.  
Machiavelli says that a man is free and able to do whatever wants when has money and physical force. I've got the physical force, but I don't have money. Damn'.  
**-"Well, look at your brother. That boy is pretty scary." **  
I don't really know how answer. I can't control him when he was eight, why I can control him now he is fourteen?  
But grandpa is right. I mean, Riley is a little scary. He terrifies Jazmine. Well… is not so hard to do.  
**-"Ok. Can I go to my bedroom? I have homework to do." **


End file.
